Black Roses and Butterfly Kisses
by dark-pheonix1
Summary: The story of a Glyphian noblewoman who became the empress of the universe, and the tragic romance that followed. LutherxOC
1. Chapter 1

Beep

Beep

Beep

The small line blipped in a slow even rhythm on the screen. He stared lifelessly at it, his sapphire eyes glazed over with boredom. Golden strands of hair fell over his emotionless face. The glow of the holographic computer screen was the only thing illuminating his cold, silver office. Here he sat- the greatest programmer in the entire Lost City, the creative genius who perfected the Eternal Sphere. He sighed as he admitted the sad, sad truth.

He had writer's block.

There was no other way to describe it. After aiding in the creation of the entire universe, there was nothing else to make. He, who along with his sister designed the shimmering coast of the Hyda planets and the vast red deserts of Sol VI, was fresh out of ideas. He had the worst sickness known to 4D kind--boredom.

"Luther, you've been staring at that screen for the past hour. What's wrong?" asked the sister stated above, Blair. She brought him tea in a silver cup (surprise, surprise). He could hear the jingling of her pyramid-shaped earrings. If anyone could help him, it was her. She was the only person in the Sphere Corporation that he trusted.

He turned around and pouted playfully. "Blaaair, I'm boooored!" he said jokingly.

Blair smiled and touched his forehead with her gloved hand. "Oh dear, dear. It looks bad," she said with a smirk.

Luther slumped in his chair. "I don't know what to do. I have a few requests from the richer players of Sphere to make a few worlds for them, but they're all so stupid. 'Oooh make me a perfect utopia!' one asks. 'I want a beer volcano and a stripper factory!' one says (Blair giggled, and Luther gave her a copy of the written request, which almost made her fall over with spasms of booming laughter). You write more code than I do these days, so you must experience this every day. What should I do?"

Blair thought for a second. "Well, whenever I have writer's block I play Sphere. It's like a vacation. And usually, the things you find give you ideas."

Luther grinned. "That sounds like a good idea. But I'd like to go somewhere . . .unpopular. I'd rather not be recognized by the other players, for obvious reasons." He pointed to the pile of letters.

"Well, that rules out Expel, Earth, and Hyda," Blair said, "I know! You could go to Elicoor II! That planet's one of our Easter eggs. It's so far away from the other popular planets that no one has found it yet."

"Why is it an egg?" Luther asked.

Blair smiled mischieviously. "You'll see when you get there!"

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"Look, all I'm saying is that we should strike them now while we have the chance!"

She was late. She could tell because Vox's voice, despirate for battle and bloodshed, was echoing off the walls. His voice was hungry, like a wild animal that smelled the blood of the innocent. Her painted lips smirked as she listened to his pleas echoing on the walls accompanied by the sound of her robe's expensive lace running on the cold cobblestone floors of Airyglyph castle. She opened the heavy wooden door to the conference room with one dainty, gloved hand.

"Hello, boys. What did I miss?" Her voice was thick and sweet like honey, and the two beastly men that sat before her, along with the king and her uncle, silenced their heated voices.

"Oh, Hell," said the young man with the braids, "It's the harbinger of chaos and discord herself. Why are **you** here, Sabella?"

She smiled gently. "It's so nice to see you too, Alby-kins," she taunted while playfully batting his long braids. He scowled as his hand grasped the hilt of his sword. She beat him to it. "Now, now. Alby. Such rash actions in front of His Majesty could get you thrown out of here, you know," her voice continued to taunt him, suffocating him like the strong perfume she wore.

She took her seat across from an elderly man by the name of Count Woltar. She bowed respectfully to him and the king. "Of course, I'm here to help with this **unfortunate** war that plagues our kingdom," she turned her gaze to Vox who understood her subtle hint.

The monstrous duke glared at her. "The battlefield is a man's world. We have no need for your interference."

Sabella laughed. "May I remind you that the Aquarian front is almost entirely composed of women, and yet you haven't been able to breach it since the blasted war began? Also, I wouldn't be here if your troops weren't so incompetent, Voxy-Woxy-Poo

. . ."

"That's enough, Sabella," Woltar said softly. Sabella nodded obediently and sat back in her chair while slowly fanning herself. She felt the tense air in the room. She had done her job well.

The king cleared his throat. "It is as Baroness Sabella says. I have brought her here because I believe that her group could be of some use to us. She has numerous well trained and exceedingly loyal spies and assassins at her command."

"But sire!" Vox exclaimed, "We already have such officers at our command! Why involve a third party?"

"How many of your spies are working as double agents?" Sabella asked.

"None!" Vox said gruffly.

Sabella pulled a richly decorated notebook out of her cloak and lightly tossed it on the table "Here is a list of all your spies and the information that they've been trafficking to the enemy. You'd be surprised how many traitors you have in your court, Your Majesty."

King Airyglyph was impressed. How a girl at her age trained spies better than the entire Glyphian army's was surprising. But then again, she did live with her Uncle Woltar for most of her life.

"Very well, then. It is decided. I look forward to working with you in the future, Baroness," said the king as he firmly shook her hand.

Sabella stood and bowed deeply. "As do I, Your Majesty. As do I."

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"Why are you such a nuisance?" Albel asked on the way out of the castle.

"What do you mean?" Sabella replied innocently.

"Every time you come, you bait Vox and me. You'd stop, if you know what's good for you."

"Don't tell me you don't like watching that pompous bastard squirm? You looked rather cute yourself, Alby-kins!"

"Shut up-"

"Oh, what am I today, Albel: A worm, a maggot, or a fool?"

She felt the wind that came from Albel's katana and the sharp blade against her neck. If she had taken one more step, she wouldn't need to worry about a "next time" with Vox. Of course, she also knew that Albel knew that she wouldn't move.

"Until next time, Albel the Wicked," she said while glancing at him.

"Later, Sabella the Matron," he grunted.

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In case you were wondering why Luther was acting so OOC, it's because this is set before the main events of the game. This story attempts to explain why Luther waited until he did to destroy the universe, and also because there aren't enough Luther fics here.

I hope you like it. - Please R&R and tell me what you think! I promise it will get more romantic when they actually meet eachother.


	2. Greetings

"You didn't cause too much trouble, did you, my lady?" asked one of the women picking corn. Autumn was here, and the frost would come soon. You could never tell in the mountains surrounding Airyglyph. Even the step like plains that they scraped out from the side of the mountain didn't stand a chance against the sudden winter winds that racked their mountain each year. At times like these, the only thing you could do was pray for Apris to keep the ground warm and for Aire to keep it fertile.

"No, not too much," Sabella said with a smile. She had her hair, black as soot, pulled back in a kerchief as she plucked the ripe corn from the stalks. She could feel the foreboding chill ruffle her plain brown work dress. "But seriously, those jerks who live in the capital need to stop worrying about politics and start thinking about what we are going to do over the winter."

"Matron!" a boy's voice yelled from over the hill connecting the village to the farmlands.

"What is it, Sinclair?" Sabella asked.

Sinclair, a boy no older than sixteen, gasped for air as he ran to them. "There is-puff- a strange man -wheeze- who arrived in the village. He was dressed in strange clothing with a spear. We are holding him captive inside the manor."

Sabella handed her basket of corn to her friend and walked over to the boy who kneeled in the pathway. She bent down and tenderly kissed him on the forehead. "You've done well, my son. Please, show me to him."

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The said man was sitting in a comfortable leather chair in a medieval sitting room. Everything looked very welcoming, save the guards who leered at him from the entrance. Under different circumstances, one might assume that he was a guest of a nobleman/woman, simply here for some idle chatter over tea and cakes. But, unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

Luther was royally pissed.

Actually, pissed didn't even put a dent in the range of emotions he felt with anger as a common ancestor. But most of all, Luther felt very insulted. There he was, going on his merry way, completely lost, utterly confused, and wondering why in the theoretical 9 rings of Hell his sister would send him to this rock, and he gets jumped by at least three-no, eight!- rogues and dragged here. They had the nerve to attack _him_ and then make a sad attempt at redeeming themselves in the eyes of their Creator by offering him a comfortable place to sit in this prison.

Not to mention that it was cold, and smelly, and if someone didn't plug that leak in the northernmost corner, he would go postal on everyone in this village!

Drip. . ,

Drip. . .

Drip. . .

That's it! I'm leaving! Luther thought, unable to hide the look of sheer annoyance that managed to free itself from his previously pensive and, admittedly, bitchy mind. That was, of course, until _she_ walked in.

That woman, with the seemingly ethereal air about her, had entered the room in an elegant navy evening gown. Everything was so silent. Her eyes weren't accusing like the others'. Although she wasn't increadibly beautiful, there was something different, something that transcends the realm of ones and zeroes, in the childishly curious glance that her dull grey eyes gave. She sat directly across him, and with a simple snap of her lace-clad fingers, a tray was rushed in by another one of the children that could be seen cleaning the place.

She grinned pleasantly. "Welcome to my humble home. Please help yourself to tea and cakes."

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He smells like pancakes. That was the first thought that crossed Sabella's mind. This was very strange, because he really didn't really smell like pancakes. It was more like the smell of the metal pan used to make them, or the industrial scent of Kirlsa. Perhaps that was what reminded her of pancakes. But now that she thought about it, it really didn't matter.

Perhaps he came from Kirlsa, or the area surrounding it? His strange draping robes of white, black and gold looked very unfamiliar to her, so she highly doubted it. The runological force surrounding him felt sterile or mechanical. The way his golden hair draped his face, effectively accenting his cerulean eyes, seemed too unreal, almost as if every part of him was manufactured by the gods themselves for maximum efficiency. He looked very skeptical, like he was appraising his surroundings for a menial sum of Fol. She now knew why her beloved guards were so apprehensive.

She sat her tea on a small coaster. "If I may ask you a personal question," she stared into his glaring eyes, "Where in your house is your alter?"

His face contorted into an arrogant smirk. "I have no need to bow down to gods," he said.

"You wretch!" shouted one of the guards, "How dare you speak so rudely to Lady Sabella!"

"It's alright, he's not our enemy," she replied, folding her fingers into a pensive arch over her lips, "Apparently he's from one of the heathen northern island countries. Aquarians all have alters to Apris in their homes, usually at the end of a main hallway. Glyphians, on the other hand, usually keep household alters in separate rooms. Since he doesn't recognize a higher power, he wouldn't be from our enemy's country. The strong scent of machinery and the high quality of his clothing must mean that he is a nobleman from an archepelago near Greeton. Am I correct?"

Luther was so tempted to say no and tell her his true origin. But, fortunately for him, she had uncontiously made a backstory for him.

He raised his glass of tea and bowed his head. "How very clever of you to figure out my tale. It is difficult to hide anything from you, Sabella. I am Luther, and as you say, I am a nobleman from a land to the **far** north of here." He could play along with her game. She seemed interesting enough, for a mere shred of data, that is.

"I welcome you to my humble town. I hope you enjoy your stay, because you won't be leaving for a while."

Luther snapped to attention. "What? Why not?"

Sabella allowed a small smile to play across her lips. "Well, although you are not from the enemy's kingdom, I can't completely trust you. The northern island countries are not increadibly rich, so the only way you could afford such expensive clothing is by trade. What's more, your most likely trade partners are Aquaria and Greeton, both of which are our enemies," she reached across the table and sympathetically patted Luther's leg (he really wanted to cut her hand off with his spear, but since he was in no predicament to attack her, he resulted to sulking) "I'm sorry. It's nothing against you, Luther. I'm sure you're a great person. If it helps, don't think of it as being held in captivity. Think of it more as. . .an extended vacation," she rose from her chair. "Now, you may walk around the village as you see fit, but you may not leave. The guards will make sure of that, so don't even try it. Dinner is at six, so don't be late. The maids will be happy to show you to your room and draw you a bath. I'm sure you must be very exhausted after your long trip. If you will excuse me, I have work to do." She gracefully glided across the floor and left Luther to continue his sulking.

He could escape, couldn't he? After all, he freaking created this world! Why should he have to listen to this mere program? He looked around his chair and realized that that _woman_ stole his weapon while she walked out. Well, that would complicate things. Their AI certainly was advanced. (Of course they were! He made them!) They obviously didn't just attack blindly; not to mention that it had been a while since he was in the Eternal Sphere, so he was a bit out of shape. Taking on intelligent enemies in large numbers while unprepared and unarmed was just stupid. Luther sighed. Oh well. This was just a part of his game, anyway.

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Dinner was very tense. The food was decent, but Luther could feel the eyes of the serving maids and guards penetrate him. Sabella looked like she was thoroughly enjoying herself, though. She sat across from him in a typical noble's dining room; complete with portraits on the cold stone walls, as well as beautiful crimson rugs on the floor. She crossed her legs and playfully fanned herself while taking bite out of annoyingly peppy bite from her meal of. . .whatever it was they were eating. It looked like steak, but tasted completely different.

"So, are you enjoying your stay, Luther?" she asked cordially.

"Besides the fact that I'm staying in a cold, primitive, backwater hamlet like this against my will? Yeah, I'd have to say I'm just peachy," he replied venomously. She laughed.

"I know, it's not exactly the capital, but I tend to like the rustic feel of the place. If you don't feel the same way, I'd gladly take you to Airyglyph castle. They'll gladly give you a dank cell to live in, complete with hourly beatings by an overweight S&M maniac," she smiled dangerously. That smile made Luther uncomfortable. It felt too much like the shot of anesthesia that Earth doctors gave their patients before they operated on them.

She laughed again as he glared at the table for the rest of diner. He excused himself, saying that he was tired and wished to clean up before he went to sleep. She suggested putting bubbles in his bath, seeing as "They make it so much more fun!" If Blair didn't lock him into the system to make sure he took his well-needed vacation, he would have teleported out of here by now. He would later thank his sister for this, but that's for another time.

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Chapter 2! My, they don't seem to be getting off on the right foot, do they?

The Crazy Authoressess CAT and AMS: I hate term papers, especially on topics that you don't really care for. Oh well, what are you gonna do? XD I always thought that he would be much more loose around his sister, so I made him that way. Thanks, I worked really hard on character drafts for her. It took forever. . .0-0.

Blue Persuasion: There really aren't enough different pairings out there. All I usually see are Albel/Nel and Albel/Fayt (the lovable little slut that is our Alby!), so I like any new pairings. As you can see, I took your advice on Luther's personality in this chapter by making him a bit colder than the last one. The reason I put that comment was because most people judge him by the 5 minutes or so at the end of the game that you see him, so. . .yeah. :B

Anarchy Sky: Yus! We have all been touched by His Noodly Appendage!


	3. Acid

A sea of foam surrounded Sabella as she sat in her tub. The bathroom was illuminated by the waltz of bright colors that came from the large stain glass window of numerous butterflies fluttering around blue, red, and purple wildflowers. This was the place she came to think and, of course, plot her next course of action.

Plotting was one thing that she learned to do over time. She had to in order to stay in the king's favor. After all, she was only a baroness of a small village of farmers in the mountains. Vox had stated this more than once. He was her primary enemy, not the Aquarians.

She sighed as she slid deeper into the ocean of bubbles. She had to always keep her enemies on their toes. Show no sign of weakness. Point out his own faults before he could find hers, but do it in a way that could keep her out of trouble. After all, blunt disrespect to a higher ranking noble could be twisted into treason, which would not do her people any good. Add the factor that two of the lead men in the king's army knew everything about her, and you could say that she had a difficult job ahead.

She despised the cruel and manipulative side of her that allowed her to do such things. But like it or not, it had to be done. Vox, in his blatant disrespect for all with religion, was hunting down as many believers in Apris as possible and executing or imprisoning them under charges of conspiracy. In such an unforgiving terrain, Apris was all that these people had. Apris and the other gods gave them rain, fertile ground, protection against the unforgiving winter, and a reason to exist. Or so they thought. Sabella was an atheist herself, but she often prayed with them to give them hope. Her citizens were her life and her love; nothing and no one would take them away from her without a fight.

She hated the fact that she couldn't trust anyone anymore. Woltar was too busy running his own brigade to protect her, and Albel had become very distant since that _incident_ when he was fifteen. She couldn't even trust her king after he dethroned almost all the other noblemen. One false move and she could be powerless. If there was any shadow of a doubt that she was disloyal, then she could end up as vulnerable as her fellow countrymen. She was surprised how lenient she was being with her guest, if you could call him that. But since she had his weapon, she had him wrapped around her little finger. He couldn't escape no matter how hard he tried. Besides, he was her first guest in a long time, and being a noble, he could be quite useful. . .

She laughed out loud at the thought. If anything, he would be fun to play with.

Although the trees were almost bare, birds could still be seen chirping in them. There they sat, overlooking the stupid crappy village, singing stupid crappy songs. Even though it was too frickin' cold out side, they still sang. And that pissed Luther off even more because he was in no mood for happy songs.

The entire village seemed deserted except for those damned guards by the gate that kept staring at him and a couple of dipshit children bouncing a red ball back and forth in front of a bakery. Luther really hated little children. They were annoying, clingy, and ridiculously stupid little carpet lice meat sacks to him. Which probably explains why when one of the dirty little maggots came to retrieve the ball they lost with a dumb grin on his face, he kicked the ball in the opposite direction and smirked evilly. The look on the kid's face when he chased after it proved that revenge was sweet. No, this wasn't revenge; it was more like karma, or divine retribution. Of course, later he would never admit to thinking such melodramatic thoughts.

"That wasn't very nice. . ." a melodic voice chimed behind him. It was _her_. That _woman_ who honestly thinks that she had incarcerated him. Her silky robes draped her lanky frame and her wet hair was pulled up with some primitive ornament. And she still had that blasted fan that hid the bottom part of her face as she glided toward him.

"It was terribly rude of you to kick that child's toy like that. After all, I'm sure you don't like your balls kicked, right?" her spidery fingers twisted around some of Luther's stray bangs and perverted smirk crossed her lips.

In one swift movement, he tightly grasped her hand, finding the pressure point between the thumb and index finger. For one second, she winced in pain and was off guard. "What do you think you're doing? You must realize that if you lay a finger on me, you'll be killed instantly. You have no way to defend yourself against my guards," she tried to keep her voice even, but panic bled through her words.

He bent even closer to her and hissed into her ear, "Impudent wench. Don't think you can control me. I have power beyond your comprehension, and I see through your act. You pretend to be tough as nails but deep inside your nothing but a narcissistic, manipulative, weak little girl." His voice dripped with acid, and he would have continued to erode her had she not smacked him.

The sound erupted through the forest. The happy fall birds ceased singing and soared overhead. Her eyes burned maliciously. "I don't know who you think you are, but it would be wise for you to learn your place," she growled, "Whatever power you may have outside of these walls dissipated the moment you were captured. Don't you see, Luther? While you're here, I own you. And you'd best remember that fact if you want to stay on my hospitable side, got it?" she stormed off, leaving nothing but a few stray raven feathers in her wake.

Sorry it's so short. I haven't been feeling too well the past few days, but I refuse to let that hold me up!


	4. Opium Memories

The warm breeze blew through the caravan, inviting them into the sacred lands of the past. Never in their eleven years of life had the boy and the girl seen something so beautiful. Ever since they were little, they had been looking forward to the day that they could travel with their respective guardians to the Sacred Kingdom of Aquaria. They traveled on lumback to the capital city of Aquios. The girl's uncle, the captain of the Storm Brigade, and the boy's father, the captain of the Dragon Brigade, were to meet with the queen to discuss a treaty to end the war that ravaged both of their lands for the past several years.

The gates of the divine city rose up to meet them in the distance. Four armed Aquarian guards guided them through the city to the castle. The guards told the two children that they weren't allowed to join in on the meeting. The girl's uncle and the boy's father told them that they could roam around the city if they wanted to, but not to go outside the city walls.

After walking around for a bit, the girl noticed two other girls, one with red hair, the other with silver, playing in a small field of flowers next to the river. The girl dragged the boy down to the river to meet them. The three girls strung flowers together to make wreaths and necklaces while the boy resorted to striking a tree with a wooden sword and claiming that "men don't play with stupid flowers."

So the three girls hatched a plan. Together, they snuck up on the boy. The two Aquarians held him down while the Glyphian child tightly fastened a wreath of daffodils to his head. The boy squirmed and snarled and eventually ripped the wreath off of his head while the girls doubled over in laughter.

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How long has it been since then? Thirteen years . . .really? It seems like it was just yesterday . . .

Have we really changed that much? He used to be so much more fun. What happened to those kind, gentle years that we spent training to reach their expectations?

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They were thirteen when the Dragon Brigade Captain let them ride his dragon for the first time. He helped them up; the boy sat in front, she sat behind him, and the captain sat in the rear, reaching his protective arms around them both to keep them safe. The dragon spread its wings and lifted them high into the cerulean blue sky. It lurched higher and higher, soaring above everything and everyone. The girl closed her eyes and tightly gripped her friend's waist as he laughed. The landscape cowered beneath them with the clouds themselves at their feet; they flew to heights that only the gods themselves should be allowed to reach. The feeling of absolute power and superiority penetrated his very soul. So this is what freedom truly felt like.

The world shrouded in a fluffy white impossibility. And even as the wind carved through their clothes all the way to their bones, the urge to go even higher and farther over came him.

That night as they sat under a large oak tree gazing at the sky that they had conquered, he made the vow that would change his life forever:

"I'm gonna do it, Bella! I'm gonna master the greatest dragon in the Urssa Caves and take Father's place as the best Dragon Brigade captain ever!"

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We were so naive then. We could not even fathom the danger that awaited him in those accursed mountains, and how it would affect me as well.

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The girl was picking medicinal herbs from the garden behind her uncle's estate. She listened to the distant clanging of swords as the Storm Brigade members trained. She would rather be with them than picking herbs from a stupid garden with the other women of the house.

The boy had already left. She remembered giving him a big hug and wishing him luck on his journey. He smiled as he told her that luck was for weaklings and he had no use for it. She couldn't wait to see him return on a great black dragon. Or perhaps it would be green? Knowing him, he'd take on the biggest one in those caves.

It was moments later that she heard the screaming. The fearful sound rebounded throughout the streets of Kirlsa. Dropping her basket, she hurried to the gates to see what was the matter.

A cluster of townsfolk had gathered around the middle of the street. She navigated herself around them to the heart of the commotion. Her beloved friend had collapsed in the middle of the road. A river of blood streamed from the stump that used to be his left arm. She slumped down next to him; it couldn't be real. This was all wrong! He was supposed to fly home valiantly with his father smiling proudly behind him! They were going to go fly together, and later they would sit under the very tree that they always talked under, and then she would tell him how she felt. She would tell him how much she loved him . . .

Five or six soldiers pushed through the crowd and lifted his mangled body. They carried it to the mansion as she somberly followed.

The doctor told her that he lost too much blood. There was nothing anyone could do. He would be dead by morning. Only a miracle could save him now.

She tore out of the room. There was one thing that could save him. There was a book on her desk that she stole from the Aquios library when she was younger. It was a book on runology. She had been told that Glyphians couldn't use runology, but she didn't care. It was worth a shot.

She ran back to his room with the book and a quill pen. She skimmed through until she found the healing spell she needed. It wouldn't bring his arm back, but it would save his life. She jabbed the quill into her arm where the book indicated and carved the necessary symbols with it. She held the bleeding arm over her love, and focused all her energy to helping him survive.

"Please, heal him. . ." she whispered.

Nothing happened.

"Heal him. . ."

Still nothing.

Tears streamed down her face. "HEAL HIM, DAMMIT!"

A burst of green light flooded from her hand and encircled his body. She screamed in pain as all her energy flew from her body. Moments after his eyes opened, she collapsed next to him.

She awoke in her own bed. Her uncle sat next to her with a worried expression on his face. The two soldiers who guarded her door glared at her with contempt. She didn't know why . . .

Seconds later, her world came tumbling down. Her beloved uncle told her the secret of her parents; how his nephew had secretly married an Aquarian commoner and paid the price with his life. He told her that by royal decree she must leave the city, lest the same thing happen to her. She asked to see her friend one last time.

He sat up in bed, but his eyes never met hers. Not the whole time she was there. There was a long, awkward silence; he spoke first.

"What do you want?" he growled.

"Albel, I . . ."

"Why did you save me?"

Tears once again filled her eyes. "Because, Alby, I-"

"DON'T EVER CALL ME BY THAT NAME AGAIN! YOU DON'T DESERVE TO, YOU MAGGOT! I HATE YOU, SABELLA! YOU AQUARIAN WITCH!"

She unconsciously grabbed her bandaged arm. The tears fell like waterfalls. If only he knew . . .If only he would listen . . .

"Now get out of my sight. I can't even stand to look at you, worm."

She left that night, clothed in the white cotton robes that were customary for criminals of the highest degree. Her uncle guided her to the gates. The triplet moons shown down on the sleeping town. The town that now hated and distrusted her with a passion turned their formally loved daughter out into the desolate mountains to die. She stopped for a moment and stared at her garden. The flowers were blooming so nicely in the spring months that felt like the winter days in the land of her mother's birth.

"Sabella, I'm so sorry. I tried to plead your case but the king wouldn't listen-"

But she wasn't listening, either. The cruel natures of the world weren't present in the gentle curves and colors of the flowers.

The world with a speck of innocence left behind.

Before leaving, she turned to him and spoke softly.

"The daffodils . . .they look so lovely today . . ."

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The smoke swirled around her like a serpent. It entranced her and caused all these painful memories to flood back. Truly, she was a mental masochist.

But then again, maybe things wouldn't be all that bad today, after all. Her new pet had just barged into her room.

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Yay! A bit of characterization! Eh. . .

Someone coughcoughBluePersuasioncoughcough wanted me to do a bit more characterization for Bella-chan (as I so affectionately call her . . . I think this is the most I've ever spent on a character. For serious) I'll be responding to your reviews by e-mail now, seeing as the fanfic Nazis decided to make my life more difficult. . But don't tell them I said that. . .xD

Thanks to all who reviewed! I promise I'll update again soon!


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